persephone33

But if I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret. So here's a star bullet point update, instead.

★ I keep having the same actor's nightmare over and over and over. Five times in the last three weeks, I've dreamt the same non-existent scene in the play. It has the same words, and the same actors (that I know, and that are not in my current production), and despite having dreamt this that many times, I'm still always wholly unprepared for it. This morning in the dream, the director told me to watch the movie that the scene was in to be better prepared. I wanted to cry. Stupid subconscious.

★ We're having a billion people for Thanksgiving. Or 32. Either way, I'm having to self-soothe... It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay... on a loop. It's not the food, it's just having that many people in the house and making sure they're comfortable, etc. I was talking to a friend and fellow actress on the phone yesterday, bemoaning the state of rehearsals the telling her that I'm a control freak and that I kind of want to hide in the closet with a bottle of Crown, and she gave me some pretty sage advice:

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Friend: You need to imagine one of those old time-y radios, you know? The ones with the knobs? And you need to envision one of those knobs being your 'give a sh*#' dial. And you close your eyes, take a deep breath and mentally turn that 'give a sh*#' knob way down. Or off.

Me: That's brilliant. Though, to be perfectly honest, I'm going to have to find that button before I can turn it down.

Friend: I'm not gonna lie. It might be in the closet with the Crown.

---

Love her. She makes me laugh.

★ Spent the better part of Friday refashioning a kind of crappy $40 JC Penney's dress into something sort of wonderful for The 39 Steps. And it only took 6 hours. :P

★ I spent over an hour this morning looking for a book my middle-schooler needed today, and we STILL didn't find it. Tell me this happens to other people, too, so that I don't sell the child into white slavery?

★ Pumpkins are still gross, and are still the devil. It's a fact. Look it up.

★ Due to the fact that I use my children to run lines, they now know how to swear in German. Mother of the year, folks. Right here. Please don't call CPS.

★ ( Supernatural spoiler? )

★ I really, really love Monday mornings, where the only noise in the house is Abbey the Lab snoring up a storm. Hope your Monday morning is as relaxing as mine. Happy Thanksgiving week! Or just Happy Monday, for those kajillion people of you out there not celebrating the American Holiday. :)

Two performances down, two more weeks to go.


Three of these guys have taken my class. That makes me smiley.

Honestly, I've had mixed feelings about South Pacific. It's an "old time" musical, one that has a long first act and a long second act, and repetition to ensure that the songs are firmly etched in your grey matter when you leave the theatre. (I can testify, having awoken this morning to my brain singing, "I'm bromidic and bright as a moon-happy night, pourin' light on the dew!" as the soundtrack to some COMPLETELY inappropriate dreams. Stupid subconscious.)

bro·mid·ic – adjective
pertaining or proper to a platitude; being a bromide; trite.

Huh. You learn something new every day.

( Wherein I wax poetic about the theatre... )

I've been having actor's nightmares a LOT lately, but last night's took the cake.

I was in a show with all women, strong actresses, all, and none of us seemed to have a firm grasp on the lines; what order they were coming in, what they were, or anything else having to do with the words coming out of our mouths. There was no blocking to speak of, I wasn't wearing stage makeup, so at one point, I was trying to do that onstage, in and around trying to remember my lines. Other actresses got injured onstage and at one point i had to help carry one of them to center. I actually got bored at one point and broke character to ask another actress on stage a question, and people in the audience answered; evidently the theatre had great acoustics, or I wasn't whispering like I thought I was. The worst part? The audience left and the house lights came on BEFORE WE FINISHED THE PLAY.

Humiliating.

I wonder what all that means? I'm not even auditioning for anything right now.

I'd given them a 'Who What Where' Acting improvisation scene, randomly drawn from a hat. Such as: A princess, making candles, on an African safari. Their task was to create a believable character in the midst of extraordinary situations. The results stretch them as actors and lets face it, they're always entertaining. And I'm all about being entertained while I work. They were rehearsing in groups of three, where the three improbable characters were in the same scene. One group had a terrorist, a queen, and a bullfighter playing cards in an elevator. They're supposed to plan, discuss and rehearse and then perform.

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Tall Kid. So... an elevator.

Goth Girl. Yeah.

Rule Follower. Where are we going to be?

Tall Kid. In an elevator, dude.

Rule Follower. No, I meant what country.

Goth Girl. I'm the Queen, so let's be in England.

Tall Kid. Man, I can't be from England, I'm a terrorist.

Rule Follower. Why not?

Tall Kid. An English Terrorist? Are you kidding? That's like... an oxymoron! (Adopts very posh upper class British accent) Oh, pardon me, I'm frightfully sorry, would you mind terribly if I blew you all up? Thanks ever so much.

Goth Girl. That's brilliant.

Rule follower. Hysterical. Yeah. You are so doing that.

---

Maybe not politically correct, but those moments are one of the reasons that I'm in my seventh year at this academy. These kids are funny.

Leave me a comment saying "Resistance is Futile."

• I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity.
• Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
• Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions.

ticklethepear asked GOOD questions!

( 1. How do you manage to find time for yourself with such an active life and family? )

( 2. What is your secret for a happy and healthy marriage? )

( 3. How do you come up with fresh ideas for d/g fic? )

( 4. Would you become a professional actress? )

( 5. What is the best part of being a mom of boys? )

Very thought provoking, Sylvia. Thanks for the questions. :D

Is an award that I will not be receiving anytime soon.

Nolan woke me at 6:00 this morning, informing me that he had to go to Nebraska this week. Today. Til Thursday. Which, ordinarily, would have me doing a little 'alone time' dance.

Not so, this morning.

After trying to find a sitter for most of the day, it became apparent that I would have to take my sons with me to rehearsal for The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, wherin (in case you aren't a faithful reader of this journal) I play a whore.

Luckily, they were spared seeing any of the real Graphic numbers. For today, anyway.

Two things, though: 1)Ethan asked, "Mommy? What was going on before Mr. Jason (Melvin P. Thorpe) came onstage?" (Answer I did not give? Sounds of the throes of passion. *facepalm*)
2) He was singing "Texas has a bleephouse in it! Lord have mercy on our souls!" at the top of his lungs on the way home. Please do not call social services. I really do try to be a good mother.

At least he has the good sense not to say the word 'whore.' Let's hope he doesn't let it slip at school.

Aaron? Fell asleep about an hour before we were done. I'm going to be grateful that he didn't see the whorehouse number, instead of taking it as a personal comment on the acting.

I have all sorts of things I want to post about, but I'm not feeling particularly funny or clever. In fact, I'm more than a little ho hum. It happens, at times,  I suppose.

Rehearsals are SO much fun. I grin (when I'm not concentrating on finding the harmony) from ear to ear the whole time I'm there. The music is fun, the dances are fun, and my part is great. Funny, funny lines.  I'm sure to blush the first time I say them in front of people.  I had a dance rehearsal Sunday that proved that a rond de jambe à terre can cause you to have sore muscles in your sides the next day. One of the other "girls" called them "sexy muscles." So, I have sexy muscles, and apparently they aren't where you'd suppose them to be. *snort*

Speaking of sexy stuff, In one dance alone (24 Hours of Lovin', it's called) for The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, I slap my own ass three times. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's better than slapping someone else's ass. It's unlike anything I've ever done before, on stage.  And it's FUN.  It's released a whole new side of Carrie.  The jury's still out on whether or not that side should have remained under wraps.  I'll keep you posted.

In related news, Ethan asked what "carnal lust" meant. (From these lyrics: "I'll expose the facts although it fills me with disgust. Please excuse the filthy dark details, and carnal lust.") Ooops. No more rehearsing the libretto where the kiddos can hear. Or practicing the dances. I don't want then to find out that I have sexy muscles, or see me slapping my rear end, for that matter.

In another seamless segue, I don't whine much, because I think whiners are the epitome of uselessness, but I bruised my tailbone before I went on vacation when I slipped on the vacuum cleaner hose and landed on the bricks in the entryway. (I looked like some sort of Tom and Jerry cartoon, I'm sure.)  ANYWAY,  IT FREAKING HURTS.  It makes sitting a challenge.  Not to mention dancing.  And slapping the aforementioned bruise. ;)

I'll get my cleverness and hilarity back soon, and post some of the highlights from vacation.  I'm going to have to make a tag that says "funny things my in-laws say," or something.  ;)

Happy b-day, Jessica!

Lord have mercy on our souls.

So I didn't get a callback after my audition on Sunday evening, but I guess they saw all they needed to see.  I got cast as one of "Miss Mona's girls," which, roughly translated, means I'll be one of the whores.  To quote a line from the show, "Yee haw."  How on EARTH am I going to explain what a 'whore' is to Ethan and Aaron?  One of my friends suggested letting them watch the movie and figure it out for themselves.

*sigh* 

Anyway, it's a great big YAY.  After I registered the kids for school, dropped them at a friend's house, went to a Dr. appointment, worked with numbers all day at Nolan's business, I needed a little good news.

The music is very fun.  The dancing makes me nail bitey, only because I'm going to be gone all next week when they're teaching all the combinations.  Eeek!  But the beach=fun and I've not been on a proper vacation in a long time.  So no guilt.

My favorite line  so far?  "No whips or rough stuff.  This ain't the Marine Corps!  No three or more to a bed.  This ain't the circus!  And no kissing on the mouth.  This ain't the junior prom!"

MAN, I love the theatre.

( Behind a cut because there are a few )

Okay. I swear I'm done posting pictures for a while.

Have a good weekend, everyone. Mom's on her way for a visit, so I'll see you Monday. :D

I've been married for ten and a half years, the vast amount of that time happily.   So needless to say, the number of other men I've kissed is limited to a very few, and all of those platonically on the cheek.  My dad, Nolan's dad, various uncles, and of course my boys.  However, for the first time in over a decade, I find myself kissing another man.

It's just in the show, but it's seriously awkward.  Mark, my co-star, is a very sweet man, and he's perfectly fine as far as men go, but ARGH!

I can't get over the fact that I'm kissing another man.

It's weird.

And it FEELS awkward, like we're trying to manufacture chemistry.  Which, to some extent, I guess we are.  (His wife is seriously gorgeous.  And he's no Nolan.)

I never had a problem with kissing on stage before I was married, and until now I haven't had occasion to, since.  However to add insult to injury, one night at rehearsal this week, after 'the kiss,' I forgot my line.  How embarrassing.  I mean the kiss wasn't mind-blowing or anything, but it was, oh, I don't know, distracting, I guess.  And we just stayed there, centimeters apart for like 15 seconds 'til I remembered that I was supposed to say something.

Good grief.

I just need to memorize my lines, try not to bump into the furniture, and not let the fact that I have to kiss this guy twice every night and act like I really want to, throw me for a loop.

*headdesk*